Inside and outside, we've been tackling tasks, and chores, like repairing the farm fence, and thinning the bamboo. Bambi and Alex did a lot of sorting and reconfiguring the room we call The Lab. It looks great in there. Some day I hope William will approve me sharing pictures of his bedroom. He has transformed it, with paint, architectural details, and rearranging everything. It feels like a destination, in our own home, and going in is like visiting a museum exhibition, or the set of a very compelling drama. He has curated a fine assortment of extraordinary things.
I keep staring at our calendar. Probably too much. At least I alternate, and go from staring at the calendar to staring at the map. I love reading maps, the paper ones. Lately I am appreciating that the online kind of maps are kind of spectacular, too. I keep finding obsucre spaces, sources, links, brilliant details that lead to fascinating articles, and books I mentally jot down... Oh, I should read that. I am making plans, and also living in a limbo. More like standing in the doorway, where I want to leave the room I have been haunting for 18 months, but the next room feels a little too wide open, inviting, and compelling, to be sure, but the crowds and bright lights, the chance that I won't find room to stand, makes me hesitant.
There are a few things on the calendar, which I find comforting and not. I really want to make plans. I want to have a party for apple picking, movie nights, a maker gathering. I want to go to the Zoo, and kayak, and stargaze. But the transition, the uncertainty of what or how to resume that Normal is not so easy. I always regret not making plans, like when it's mid-August, and we've spent endless days not doing much, and resenting the crowds, because we didn't make our own reservations, take our own adventures. But I am having such a hard time launching, initiating even basic things. This week, for instance, is half over and we haven't done any of the things I kept anticipating. I am pretty sure the good van needs to see the mechanic, which is a real stinko, because that will probably be something that will eat up the last half of the free week. Am I whining? Sorry.
One big thing on the calendar: I am driving to Oregon. It's a fact, that I am stating to reinforce my committment to both a compelling and an overwhelming plan. I will have the company of William and Maria. We will be in a rental vehicle. I've made every single reservation for accomodations, and located every reliable public restroom between here and there, with exits and open hours. I have researched the make and model of three categories of rental vehicles and changed my choices
Right now, I am going to clean off our picnic table. Later, I am going to roast some tomatoes. And much later, I will be driving, one day at a time, North, and it will all be fine, lovely in fact, and when I drive home I will be full of new stories, inspiration, and confidence.
Can you hear my soothing tone, my inner-wisdom voice? I am channeling all that, and aiming for philosophical and chill. Lotus position. Chamomile tea. A compilation of every therapy affirmation and mind-wellness saying is raining down on my head, like word pot-pourri... it's well intentioned, and practically useless. Should I count sheep? No? Logging off, now.